Page 12 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
“Poisoned?” The word flew from Conall’s mouth before he had time to think.
How can they be poisoned? How would a poison only affect the bairns? How could I fail to protect them?
A thousand questions rushed through Conall’s mind, one after the other so quickly that he never had a moment to focus on one. His heart started to beat rapidly, keeping in time with his spiraling thoughts.
Eliza turned to him, eyes narrowed as she shushed him. That sound brought him back to the present, out of his mind, and allowed him to focus on the task at hand once more.
“Quiet,” the healer demanded. “Ye daenae want the bairns to hear ye.”
Conall glanced toward Kate, seeing the maid wearing the same admonishing expression as Eliza. He bristled against their ire, their narrowed gazes and scrutiny chafing against the very core of his being.
This isnae about ye.
His eyes darted to the closed doors before him. The Laird envisioned what lay beyond them, picturing the cots with their small bodies. Visions of the children and their parents, who trusted their laird to protect them fromallharm, danced before his eyes.
I will nae fail them.
Even though it went against every part of his nature, Conall swallowed his pride and nodded before motioning for Eliza to continue.
Surprise flickered across her face, clearly expecting him to argue a bit more. But she didn’t comment on it as she schooled her features back under control and continued speaking.
“Aye,” she said solemnly. “Arsenic poisonin’.”
“But how?” Kate asked, stepping closer to the healer almost involuntarily.
Eliza shook her head. “Cannae say. But it’s only the bairns so far?” Kate and Conall nod, and the healer’s face turns pensive. “Could be anythin’, to be honest. But I ken how to help them, at least. If ye can get me the things I need.”
The last sentence was directed at Conall, and he nodded.
“Make a list and it’s yers.”
Before she could respond, footsteps sounded down the hall and Conall turned to find Eliot striding in their direction. It was perfect timing.
“Was Morna able to get Eliza’s rooms settled?” he asked his man-at-arms, who only answered with a quick nod of his head. “Good. Ye will be guardin’ her from here on out. Nay one gets to be around her without me approval. Ye’re to be with her at all times.”
A sound of protest sounded from Conall’s right, and he turned to see Eliza wearing an indignant expression.
“At all times?” Her voice was filled with fury as she repeated Conall’s expression. “I daenae need to be fussed over like one of the bairns layin’ in those cots. I daenae need to be watched!”
“Ye’re our only healer,” Conall grunted, still scowling. “Ye need to be protected.”
Eliza’s chest puffed up with indignation. “I can protect meself! How do ye expect me to do me job with big brutes like that one,” she gestured wildly in Eliot’s direction, “constantly gettin’ under me toes!”
“And if ye’re attacked?” Conall bristled as he hurled the words at her. He watched them land, causing some of Eliza’s anger to deflate slightly.
He continued. “The wee one’s arenae poisonin’ themselves. Someone is doin’ it to them. What then? What happens to the bairns if ye get hurt before ye can heal them?”
The healer’s gaze didn’t move from his, but her eyes were no longer narrowed on his face. She studied him for a moment, still bristling.
Conall held her stare.
Christ, but she’s beautiful.
The words flickered through his mind quick as a flash, before he could do anything about them. He had registered her beauty the moment they’d met, the stiffness beneath his kilt as they’d ridden to the castle had told him well enough.
But he hadn’t taken a moment to truly appreciate it.
And now is not that time, ye dobber.
